


Summer of Bethyl 2018 - One Shot's

by Piper1016



Category: Walking Dead
Genre: Bethyl Week, F/M, Summer of Bethyl, Summer of Bethyl 2018, bethyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 12:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15389097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper1016/pseuds/Piper1016
Summary: One Shot's I wrote from Summer of Bethyl 2018





	1. Talk

He knew if he didn’t ask her out soon, he’d regret it the rest of his life. He just couldn’t make his mouth formulate the words. She was bartending the bar he frequented in their tiny farm town, but somehow he knew she was miles above him. Somehow knew she was better than him and his Dixon name. 

Daryl spent more time in the tiny bar than was necessary. Or healthy. He no longer needed to request his usual bottle of Bud, by now she knew what his drink of choice was. Fetching him a fresh bottle of beer or refilling Merle’s two fingers of whiskey over and over again, he’d find himself only able to nod his thanks. Sometimes she’d ask him a question to which he’d only give one worded answers. If he could get away with it he’d only shrug a shoulder or give her a half assed smile.

Merle, however, couldn’t shut up. He had this ability to be able to talk to anyone in any situation. Whether the person wanted to talk to him or not. He was loud and crude but she handled him well. Put up with his babbling banter when he got too drunk, gave a sympathetic ear when he got down in his drunkenness, gave it right back to him when he was a smartass. When the other patrons got rough she took care of them too. Once he saw her pull a Louisville Slugger from behind the bar on a drunk man that got rough with his girlfriend. She sure didn’t take any shit from anyone.  

Yes, Beth Greene handled herself just fine. Daryl liked that. He also liked that she had kind eyes, and how occasionally they’d land on his and held his gaze for a glorious few seconds. Liked it when she smiled at him from time to time making him feel warm inside. A feeling he didn’t exactly object to, just was something he hadn’t experienced before.

He liked it when she joined the live band on stage on a Saturday night for an occasional song, her sweet voice sending goosebumps over his skin. The way her long legs tucked into tight skinny jeans, ass the perfect size and shape, he imagined, for the palm of his hands. He liked the way her hair shone the color of sunshine even in this dark, dank shithole of a bar.

He couldn’t asked her out with his drunk brother sitting right next to him, though. So he began stopping in for a drink on his way home from work on the days he knew she was working. He knew which days those were because he saw her car in the parking lot. He wasn’t stalking her, he rationalized. He was observant, he paid attention.

The second he’d scoot up to the bar and she gave him that smile, he’d lose his nerve.

She’d say something akin to, “Hey there, Daryl. Long day?” To which he’d reply “Uh huh”, because they were always long days. Or sometimes he’d only nod. She’d smile at him knowingly and he’d sit there like the fool he was - wishing they hadn’t outlawed smoking in bars. It was a bar for Christ sake, what else are you supposed to do in a facility whose sole purpose was to get drunk? - Wishing she’d stop being nice to him. It’d be so much easier if she were a bitch. And not smart. And not beautiful.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever way he wanted to look at it, she wasn’t a bitch, she was smart and she was beautiful.

On this night, a Thursday with the sun going down, he’d been awake nearly eighteen hours when he entered the bar, eyes adjusting accordingly to the dim room. He should go straight home, take a shower. Make a sandwich for dinner and go to bed. Like anyone else, he had work tomorrow. Then his line of sight landed on Beth and the long day that weighed him down, drifted away.

It was dead with only a couple other regulars drinking in the back corner booth, they both gave him a small wave, a “Hiya’, Dixon”.

Beth was propped up on a stool behind the bar, reading a book. Not a regular book, a textbook. Something about AP chemistry.

“Hey, Daryl,” she said, her face going from firm concentration to, if Daryl wasn’t mistaken, happy. That didn’t make sense, why would she be happy to see him?

She jumped from the bar stool and shoved the book and notepad she was taking notes on in a shelf behind the bar. “What’ll ya’ have? Something different for a change?”

“Na’. Bud is fine,” he mumbled over the music playing on the speakers. The live band only played on Saturdays.

“One Bud it is,” she said.

To his surprise, after placing the cold bottle in front of him on a napkin, she rested an elbow on the bar top and planted her chin in her palm. Her eyes, the color of the sky on a crisp spring morning, narrowed.

He tried looking everywhere but her beautiful face. Down at his phone, at the label of the beer. Finally, he reluctantly lifted his eyes to her and something came over him. The usual warmth he felt when she looked at him, only all over. From the top of his head to his toes in his dingy work boots. He was glad he was sitting because his knees felt weak and he hoped his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.

“What?” He heard himself grumble.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

Buying himself a few seconds, he tipped the beer bottle back, took a long swig. “That a problem?”

“Not really, people tend to talk just to hear the sound of their own voices.”

He agreed with that. Especially when they got too much alcohol in their system. “What’s there to talk about?” He asked, he’d never been good at talking.Kept his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself.

Strange thing was, he wanted nothing more than to talk to her. Ask her about her life. Her family. Why she was reading AP chemistry. Why she was a bartender in this shithole. He wanted to ask what her middle name was. The little stuff he never wanted to know about anyone else before.

She shrugged a shoulder, rolled her eyes adorably. “Oh, there's plenty we could talk about,” she told him, a small smile playing on her perfectly pink lips.

“Fer instance?” He asked, feeling less shy, whether it be from the alcohol on an empty stomach or Beth magically putting him at ease.

“For instance, we can talk about why you’ve been coming here for weeks now. During the week. Without your brother. No offense, but you can get a 6 pack cheaper at the quick stop on the corner than two beers here.”

Smart. Beautiful. Perceptive.

Oh, what the hell?  What did he have to lose? Other than his pride and who really needed that? “Maybe I like the company.”

“Well, Dale is a handsome devil,” she teased, nodding her chin over to one of the old men in the corner.

That made Daryl chuckle. She was funny too. Lord help him, was there anything to dislike about this girl?

“So, ya’ wanna’ talk so bad, then talk,” he challenged, meeting her eyes full on. Maybe he could scare her off? Not that he wanted that but she’d probably be better off to steer clear of him.

Not at all prepterbed by his attitude, she said, “How ‘bout we talk about why you haven’t asked me out yet?”

The bottle of beer stalled on the way to his mouth, he set it back down on the napkin. “Damn girl, what if I don’t want to ask you out?”

She laughed. He was bluffing and they both knew it.

Her eyebrow rose into the perfect swoop of bangs. Hesitantly he moved his hand next to where hers lay flat on the bar top. Cautiously, his fingers brushed over her pinkie, over her knuckles. He peered at her out the tops of his eyes, judging her reaction to his touch. Her hand overturned, seemingly, strangely, welcoming him.

As if acting on their own accord, he found his fingers grazing over the baby soft skin of her hand, encircling her wrist. Her fingers wrapped around his hand. Not really holding hands, but touching. Blessed contact.

He watched her hand fit perfectly in his, her heartbeat thumping evenly under his fingers. A fire of need burned in his chest. Can just a touch really do that? He supposed so, because it was happening.

“And what if I do wanna’ ask you out?” He finally asked, his voice barely above a gravely mumble. “What would ya’ say?”

“Well, guess you better ask to find out.”

Clearing my his throat, he said, “Alright. Beth, do you wanna’ go out sometime with me?”

A slow, satisfied smile lit up get face.“Sure, I’d like that.”

. . .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of Summer of Bethyl 2018. Prompt: Calm.

“Baby, just calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? Did you just seriously tell me to calm down?”

Judging by her reaction, she wasn’t going to calm down. Like anyone in the history of ever calming down had ever calmed down by being told to calm down. He was in deep. He knew he should have said no to Merle.

“I been waiting for you to get home for hours. Had dinner ready. But hey, your brother wanted to go out for a beer, which by the looks of you turned into many beers.”

She was making a scene, a few patrons of the bar had meandered past slowly, trying to get an idea of what Beth Dixon was yelling at her husband about. She didn’t really care. She wanted to get her point across, and if that meant making a scene then so be it.

She had worked all day. All week actually as had Daryl. She was looking forward to a quiet Friday night at home. Just the two of them. Then she’d gotten a text from him saying he was meeting Merle for a beer. That he wouldn’t be too late.

She’d been annoyed, but a beer shouldn’t take too long, so she texted back “Okay”.

Put dinner in the oven to keep warm and went to take a shower. She laid down on their bed afterward and fallen asleep. When she woke it was hours later and no sign of Daryl. Cut to a couple more hours later and she was seething.

Picking up her phone to send him a text, she second guessed it. She thought of something that would have a bigger impact.

So here she was, yelling at her husband in the parking lot with half the town present in the bar. Was this the way her mother raised her to handle a disagreement in her marriage? No. And she was quite sure her mother would hear about it by tomorrow afternoon.

Again, she didn’t care. She was tired of Merle and the strange hold he had over Daryl. He, at least, drew the line at being involved with the drugs Merle sold and consumed regularly, and for that she was thankful, but he still had this hold over him. It didn’t seem to matter that they were married now, had been for almost a year. If Merle wanted Daryl’s help with something, Daryl practically dropped everything. If he wanted a beer at the bar, Daryl rarely said no.

Beth didn’t mind having Melre in their lives, they were brothers after all. She understood that family bond, had it herself with Maggie. This was beginning to interfere with their relationship, though. At least it felt that way to her.

And Daryl couldn’t just have a beer and go home. No Merle wouldn’t quit until they were both plowed.

Daryl put his hands up, palms out in defense, taking a step closer. He reached for her hand. She backed up.

“Uh uh, don’t your dare touch me.” Because if he did she’d be sunk. She couldn’t, even being as pissed as a cat in water, resist his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he said with that half smile playing on his lips.

“You’re sexy little smile isn’t going to rescue you this time. I’m tired of this bullshit. We’re married. I don’t want a husband that spends his time at the bar instead of with his wife.”

She had to tell him how she felt. Didn’t want to be one of those wives who pouted to herself, hoping her husband will figure out what’s wrong on his own. She didn’t have the time or patients for that.

“Okay. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn it, Daryl, don’t say that. I don’t care if you go out occasionally. And Merle is more than welcome at our place. I’ve said that a million times.”

He heard the easing in her voice. Took his chance, and lightening fast, snatched her around the waist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her ear.

Beth’s body softened into his. Sorry went a long way with her, if it was spoken genuinely. And Daryl never apologized if he didn’t mean it.

Relenting, she sighed. She couldn’t resist him for long. When he was a little drunk like he was, his normally sharp eyes softened. His touch was a bit more light. His smile just a bit more easy.

“I just really wanted to have dinner tonight with you.”

“Let’s go home. Right now. Have that dinner, then I’ll take you to bed.”

“We both know you’ll be passed out ten minutes after dinner.”

“Well damn babe, how much time do you need?”

Beth laughed, letting go of the last of her anger. He kissed her then, lifting her onto her toes. God, she loved this man. No one else could possibly piss her off like he can and then make her melt within minutes. Just as quickly her laughter died on her lips and she was overcome with emotion and the love she felt for him.

Daryl stepped back, really looking at her in the dim light of the parking lot. Tracing a tear down her cheek with the back of his fingers, he asked, “Hey now. What’s this about?” He felt like shit making her cry.

She sniffled, quickly getting her emotions under control. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Liar.” He read her like a book. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Eyeing her suspiciously, he squeezed her ribs where she was especially ticklish, forcing a squeal from her lips.

“Daryl stop,” she sputtered in between bursts of laughter as he continued to assault her ribs.

“Nope, not till you tell me.”

Suddenly she found herself unable to keep it to herself any longer and blurted, “I’m pregnant.”

That got Daryl’s attention and he quickly stilled. Eyes back to her face. His heart began beating so hard in his chest it hurt. His head spun a little. “You’re what?”

Beth caught him before he toppled over onto the gravel. “It’s okay Daryl, calm down.”

Her slight smile, the love on her face, put his heart at ease. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” he joked.

It wasn’t _that_ big of a shock. They’d been trying since the wedding and wasn’t too careful before that. Month after month went by and she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Other than the day Beth finally married him, this made him happier than anything in his life.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He asked, his voice soft with uncertain wonderment.

“You’re gonna be an amazing dad,” Beth told him. Fresh tears falling down her face.

That was it for him. No more bars. No more getting drunk. He wanted to be a good example for his child.

Not caring who might see, he went down on his knees, wrapping his arms around Beth’s waist, placed his head against her belly. He had no idea how to be a dad, a _good_ dad, but he was determined to do everything in his power to figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. :) Leave a comment if you'd like. I can't get over writing mushy AU's. lol


	3. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three of Summer of Bethyl 2018 Prompt: Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't normally write ZA, but this was a nice change.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why don’t you feel anything? You’ve got to see my side of this.” Beth yelled, her patients finally snapped. Why didn’t he see how personal this was to her, why she was pissed off? Daryl’s stoicism was one of his many strong suites. It was also his downfall. She wanted him to be as angry as her. Contrary to the belief of a lot of people he did feel. He felt deeper than most knew. Except for Beth. She knew just how deeply he cared for the small group of people he considered his family.

They’d been at Alexandria for a while now. Daryl longer than Beth. Since she came here, since they found her at Grady months after she’d been shot and left for dead, she and Daryl picked up where they left off. Quickly going from unexpected friends, to much more. There was no talk of it. It just happened. Wherever Beth was Daryl wasn’t too far off and wherever Daryl found himself, Beth was right next to him. No one said anything about it or made issue with it. Somehow they, and everyone else, knew they fit together.

In this world where the dead roamed, things that would have been frowned upon in the other world, like Beth Greene being with a Dixon for instance, worked. _They_ worked. They made a great team. Made great lovers.

Daryl’s ruggedness was smoothed over by Beth’s softness. His quick temper was tamed by Beth’s calmness. She was light. He was darkness.

Of course Beth wasn’t exactly like she’d used to be.

Her time at Grady changed her. Made her grow up. Made her tougher. It made her smarter in a lot of ways too. At Grady, after Daryl killed Dawn, something Beth had no memory of, things settled down. The staff, Dr. Edwards, and Beth after she healed, were able to actually help people. Not like they “helped” people when they were under the control of Dawn Lerner, but offer a place of shelter for those in need. Help for those who were hurt or scared with no place to go. She was ultimately better for the time she spent there.  

Happy to be back with her family, it was still a difficult transition settling into Alexandria. She was just supposed to trust the people of Alexandria? One look and she could see most of the residents hadn’t stepped foot outside the perimeters of the walls. None had the blood of walkers, or anyone else, on their hands. She’d heard of a war that took place between them and a group called the Wolves where everyone fought to protect their home. She found this hard to believe.

She had gotten used to it for the most part though. Having Maggie, her nephew. Rick and Judith. Carol. Carl. Not Noah. And not Glenn.  

That did her in. After hearing about what happened to Glenn, and a man named Abraham she had never met that had become a member of their group. Killed by a handkerchief wearing, bat wielding psycho, it made her so angry, so hurt.

She used that anger for the better, or tried to anyway. Offering to go out on runs, taking patrols. Doing what she could to protect those that she loved within the walls.

Now this man, Negan they called him, was becoming even more of a danger. More than he already was. And recently he barged right through their gates, taking half their supplies.

Beth couldn’t understand why this was happening. Why they were negotiating with the man that killed someone they all loved.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” He asked calmly. Taking a pack of Marlboro Reds he’d scored off of a dead guy he came across on a run, from his front pocket. Purposefully he took his time retrieving a cigarette from the pack, putting it to his lips. Lighting it. Took a long hard drag.

“Feel something. Anything. Be angry. Be upset. Try and see why I can’t just sit idly by while you all go out to his compound.”

After Negan's visit they’d arranged a run to his compound. Scope things out, see how things were ran. But there was no way Daryl was going to let Beth go. It was too dangerous. And to top it all off there were rumors this guy had multiple “wives”. The idea disgust Daryl. And he wanted to keep Negan as far from Beth has possible. Not surprisingly she hadn’t taken it well when he told her there was no way in hell she was going.

It was a low blow, but Beth said, “After what happened to Glenn, I can’t just not do anything.”

He hung his head low, shaking it back and forth. Beth went too far and instantly felt regret. It was obvious. She didn’t have to be there to know Daryl blamed himself for Glenn’s death and not the man who actually killed him. Didn’t have to be there to know, she knew how Daryl worked. She went to touch his shoulder, meant to apologize. She didn’t blame him when he pulled back.

The world was silent. The town settled down for the night, they felt like the only ones left in the world in the backyard of the house they shared.

Finally he spoke. Quietly. She’d rather he yell at her because the anagzined hoarseness of his voice cut her down to the bone marrow.

“I don’t know why I’m the way I am. It’s how I’ve had to live my whole life. I had to be tough. I couldn’t let on that I was scared of my old man. That sometimes my own fucking brother scared the shit out of me. For fun he’d point a loaded .22 at my head, for Christ's sake.” Daryl pointed two fingers at his temple. “You think I could show them an ounce of anything? So no, to this day I don’t feel fear about much of anything. I had to shut that out.” He turned his back on her then. Looking to the sky, suddenly remembering the cigarette burning between his fingers. He took one last puff, threw it out onto the rock pathway. “The only time I really feel fear is when I think of any harm coming to you.”

Beth broke then. Feeling like an ass for making him, a man like Daryl Dixon, admit something so vulnerable. Coming up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Thankfully he didn’t pull away.

After a moment he said, “Beth I already lost you once. I’ll be damned if I let that happen again.”

. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! The line "The only time I really feel fear is when I think of any harm coming to you" is taken, more or less, from the movie The Village.  
> Leave a comment, let me know what you think. :)


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